Torn in half & half again

I left with dripping steps up the ruined concrete stairway back to the overlook parking lot, heard that heel of sidewalk groaning with albatrossian hang-time at the cobble of beachbreak foams as of this moment accomodates the rain (inside) reels of nowhere besieged.   Not to hold abeyance with sunset hardware & a grip of dreamless blonde sand.   Descent of bituminous fog.

From here it’s a clean shot to the ramshackle tenements of Shangri-La steeped in ruin & candlelight, all the baptismal vestments, cheap sunglasses & bent metal rust warning signs graffitied into obscurity.   At the car door to perform ablutions pouring water from a plastic gallon jug over my head before peeling off the black neoprene & throwing on t-shirt, shorts, shoes, sweatshirt against the chill rips & blades of cold air knifing the damp.   Who did it matter what incumbent gloom attends with plumes of mist tuning E-strings in the eucalyptus.